


Self hatred

by Spingtail



Series: AtBB Canon [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Disordered Eating, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kinda anyway, Papyrus (Undertale)-centric, Physical Abuse, Self-Harm, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, Underfell Flowey (Undertale), Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2019-09-28 20:29:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17189867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spingtail/pseuds/Spingtail
Summary: Papyrus has a chat with his best friend, comes home, and meets a nice clone who means no harm. What could go wrong?





	1. Hate

**Author's Note:**

> Edge doesn't have his nickname yet, so he's only referred to as Papyrus here. I hope it isn't too confusing!

“It’s been two years.”

“I know.”

“It’s been two years and we’re still _here.”_

“I _know,_ Papyrus.”

“If you _know_ so much, then why the hell haven’t you done anything about it?” Papyrus shouted, sitting up from where he was lying down in the grass. Flowey’s blank expression didn’t change, other than a small twitch around his mouth.

“I told you, I can’t do that anymore. The human took it away from me,” the flower explained, his monotonous voice almost resembling mockery. “If I could still go back, I would have _way_ before now.”

“How am I even supposed to know that _any_ of that was ever real?” Papyrus asked, flinging his hand out. “It’s not like anyone can even remember anything, you could’ve just made everything up, and I’m just supposed to take your _word_ for it?”

“You don’t have to believe me if you don’t want to,” Flowey said, his petals slumped slightly. “I don’t have a soul, remember? It’s not like I’ll care either way.”

“Flowey, I… Actually, you know what?” Edge began, quickly standing up. “I don’t care either. I don’t care whether you live or die, I don’t care about ever reversing any of this shit, and I don’t care about the fact that everyone I know thinks that I should die. I’m going home.”

“W-Wait, Papyrus, that’s not what I-” Flowey stuttered, _finally_ some emotion in his voice.

“-And I _never_ want to talk to you again.” Papyrus interrupted, meaning every word of it as he stormed off. That damned plant didn’t even try to stop him.

Everything had gone to shit since the human fell down two years ago. The minute word of them got out, people were panicking like mad, as if Mt. Ebott itself was seconds away from collapsing.

And yet, they actually weren’t the hellbeast that most propaganda had made humans out to be. They were _nice._ So nice, in fact, that they had made it all the way to King Asgore without killing a single person.

And then they slaughtered him, left, and took the souls with them.

Of course, the public had immediately blamed Papyrus for it. They ignored the fact that most of them had let the human pass as well, that even _Undyne_ was willing to befriend them after some convincing. But because he was the captain of the royal guard, the one person who was specifically chosen to kill humans, everything they had done was his fault.

He knew they were right, but it still hurt.

As he made his way home, he was still seething from his “hangout session” with Flowey. He decided that he hated Flowey, hated the people who turned to glare at him only to turn and whisper the second he passed, hated the royal guard, hated the entire damn underground.

He checked his mailbox. Inside was a single letter, the one he had submitted to the queen, asking for permission to resign from his position as captain of the royal guard.

It had been denied, and the accompanying text stated that he was officially demoted to Riot Control, the lowest possible ranking in the guard. He was to turn in his armor within the next three days.

Yeah, he hated Queen Toriel, too.

Slipping the letter into his inventory, he finally walked into his house, shutting the door behind him quickly.

“Oh, hhey bro!” Sans greeted, sounding strangely cheery. He was obviously drunk, so maybe he thought about a dog, or something. Edge murmured his response, thinking nothing of it as he walked a steady path towards his bedroom.

That was, until he noticed another bigger, lankier skeleton lounging on the couch next to his brother.

He spun around quickly, summoning razor-sharp bones in mid-air and suspending them over the stranger, who didn’t seem to react. He simply smiled, his blue eyelights glinting in their sockets.

“Duuude, dude, chill,” Sans slurred, clumsily putting a hand up. “He ssays he’s from a diff’rent universe, Pap. Ain’t that cool?”

Papyrus didn’t lower his guard, but if the stranger was bothered by it, he didn’t show it.

“You can call me Russ!” He stated, his smile never faltering as the attacks got slightly closer. “It’s very nice to meet you!”

He stuck out a hand, like he was the cock of the fucking walk.

 

Papyrus hated him.

 


	2. Two Drunk Idiots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus makes dinner and helps his brother (and his brother's new friend) home.

Papyrus couldn’t help but steal an occasional glance at his brighter counterpart while cooking dinner. All he was doing was sitting on the couch with Sans and joking around, but that was precisely what made Papyrus’s blood boil. What did  _ ‘Russ’  _ have that  _ he  _ didn’t? Why had it been so hard for Papyrus to get so much as a smirk from his own brother after  _ years  _ of trying, when  _ this guy  _ managed to get him outright  _ wheezing  _ within merely a few hours?

He shook his head, putting it up to the fact that Sans was just drunk off his ass and, well, didn’t really like Papyrus much in the first place. He’d probably get around to hating Russ soon, too. It was only a matter of time.

 

Before the food burnt, he turned off the stove and got two plates. One for Sans, and one for the outrageously annoying guest. He didn’t have much of an appetite for himself.

“Dinner,” he muttered, walking out with the two dishes. He handed one to Sans, who accepted it without much acknowledgement, while Russ seemed to squish himself into the couch cushions just to get away from it.

“Uh, nnno thank you!” He stammered, staring at the plate as if it had maggots on it instead of simple lasagna. “I’m, um, not very hungry!”

All Papyrus could do for a few seconds was stare as he took time to process the other’s refusal. Was something wrong with his cooking? He looked back at the pasta with a frown, inspecting it for any imperfections. It looked fine, but perhaps there was something he wasn’t seeing.

Fortunately, Sans was all too eager to point it out to him, whether there  _ was  _ anything or not.

“Blegh, whaaat’d you put in thiss?” He slurred after taking one tiny bite. “A  _ dog?  _ It tastes like...  _ dog.” _

“I made it the same way I always do--” Papyrus defended, knowing his brother had already made up his mind.

“It doesn’t usually taste like this, you fuckin’  _ liar,”  _ Sans interrupted. “You...  _ did _ ssomethin’ to it. There’s no way in hell I’mm... eatin’  _ any  _ of this.”

Despite how much he wanted to defend himself more, Papyrus simply nodded before taking both dishes back to the kitchen. He only got a glance of Russ’s face before he turned around, but he knew those cautious blue eyes had watched him all the way back. Sans had already successfully ruined any chance of the two getting along in only a few sentences, but it wasn’t like he cared. He didn’t.

 

After scraping the pasta into several plastic containers to save as leftovers, he started to wash the dishes. His brother popped his head into the kitchen.

“Hey, weee-we’re gonna, uhh, head over to Grillbs’. For some  _ actual  _ fffood,” he stated, leaning on the doorframe in an attempt to not fall over. It wasn’t working very well. “Gimme ssome caaash.”

Papyrus had to hold back a long sigh. His brother was already quite obviously trashed, and now he was going to go give himself alcohol poisoning with a person from a different universe. Unfortunately, Papyrus knew by now that there wasn’t any way to stop him, so he said nothing as he dug some gold out of his pockets. It looked to be enough for about four drinks for the two of them.

“Is this enough?” He asked as he handed it over.

“It never is,” Sans answered, walking away with the money without another word. Soon after, Papyrus heard two pairs of footsteps shuffling past, and the door shut.

He finally let out the long sigh he had been holding in for a while. After finishing his cleaning, he made his way back to his room upstairs.

 

With every step he took, the knife in his pocket seemed to get heavier.

 

* * *

 

At two in the morning, Papyrus stared groggily at the phone that had woken him up. Someone was calling him. He was too tired to read who, but he could tell it was a saved number, so he answered anyway.

 

It was Grillby.

 

Apparently, Sans had pocketed the money he had “borrowed”, due to the fact that Russ had a  _ lot  _ more gold than expected, and they had both decided to use that gold to buy a  _ lot  _ of drinks.

According to Grillby, Sans was completely passed out, while Russ had eaten the entire menu before throwing it all back up into a trashcan. All the other patrons had gone home, but Grillby wasn’t quite sure how to kick the two out. He told Papyrus he was lucky that he felt bad for him, because if it had been anyone else, they would be left to suffer the cold of Snowdin without hesitation.

 

So, that was a fun thing to wake up to.

 

He had fortunately fallen asleep in his civilian clothes, which consisted of a loose-fitting black hoodie and jeans, so he didn’t have to worry about looking decent as he rushed out of the door to retrieve the two drunk idiots waiting for him to help them home. When he arrived, he wished he had just gone back to sleep.

Like Grillby said, Sans was out cold. Papyrus was hesitant to pick him up, paranoid that he would wake and snap at him at any second, but it seemed that he would rather sleep through the apocalypse than stop dreaming. To his relief, it was easy to simply pick him up and carry him home.

 

Russ, however, was a much different story.

 

Papyrus considered just leaving him behind more times than he could count on his fingers, not wanting to deal with  _ any  _ of his babbling, stumbling  _ bullshit,  _ but he decided against it. He was dreadfully  _ annoying,  _ yes, but he was also the first person he had seen make his brother genuinely smile in a long time.

It was hard to keep this in mind, however, as he tried to herd him back to the house.

 

“Ha-haaave you ever wonderrred…” Russ slurred, leaning heavily on the other and nearly dragging him to the ground, “whaat it would be like to, to jussst…  _ watch  _ yourselff  _ die??  _ I don’t gottaa wonder that anymore, no-sirree!! I’ve seeen it  _ enough,  _ thank you!!!”

Papyrus could only stare after pushing the other off for what seemed like the twentieth time, not at all sure how to respond as he devolved into a fit of humorless giggles, seemingly laughing just to fill the silence.

“Ha-haave you ever wonderedd what that would  _ be  _ like???” He continued, finally learning to keep his distance as he stumbled along, “To just…  _ not  _ be there anymmore? Not liiike,  _ suicide  _ or anythhing, nooo, just  _ poofing  _ out of existence or something…. I haven’t gotten to seen that yet, but sometimes I really wanna!!”

“Would you be  _ quiet?”  _ Papyrus growled, tensing up as his brother stirred in his sleep. That kind of talk would make the three of them seem extra vulnerable to  _ everyone  _ who may have been lurking around nearby.

 

“You know, Fell, or  _ Sharky,  _ or whatever the hell your name is--”   
_ “Papyrus.  _ Call me anything else, and I’ll kick your ass.”

“III doubt that, but anyway,” Russ said, his lopsided grin widening, “As  _ flattering  _ as it is thaat you wanna take me hhome with you--”

“Oh my god, don’t even  _ try  _ to imply that--”

“--I  _ must  _ ssay that I’m perrrfectly capable!! Of taking care of myselff!! I’ve been by myself _ lotsa  _ times, in eeven  _ worse _ places, so you don’t gotta get so frustrated! You can just gooo on ahead if ya wanna!!!”

Papyrus seriously considered it. It  _ did  _ seem like the other somehow knew his way around pretty well, and had enough common sense to not trust shady people, so maybe it  _ would  _ be more wise to just….

...No, that would be stupid. If he left an intoxicated stranger that looked almost exactly like him out in the middle of Snowdin, it wouldn’t end well for  _ anyone.  _ Not to mention, Sans would certainly never let him forget it, considering how well they appeared to get along.

“No,” he finally answered, looking straight ahead, “My brother would hate me if I lost track of you, so come on.”

“Aaaalrighty then!” Russ responded, giggling some more as he strode a few feet ahead.

 

After catching up, Papyrus finally took a good look at his otherworldly counterpart. He had already noted the cautious blue eyelights, but they were slightly more blurred now. Even through the drunken haze, it almost looked like they were observing everything around. He wouldn’t be surprised if those eyes had noticed more about himself within the first hour of being here than he had noticed the entire day.

Other than that, Russ had dark circles under each of his eye sockets. When he wasn’t paying complete attention, his eyelids drooped down ever so slightly, like they wanted to close. None of his constant grins seemed to hold a lot of genuine joy behind them.

In short, he looked  _ tired. _

 

Papyrus shook his head. He didn’t care. They were finally back at the house, anyway.

“You can sleep on the couch,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the object in question as he carried his brother towards the stairs. Russ had already started making himself comfortable when he glanced back, so he guessed the other had done this a few times before.

He hardly breathed as he laid his brother down in bed. Sans  _ hated  _ it whenever anyone entered his room uninvited. If he woke up now, Papyrus would get an earful that he didn’t have any energy for at the moment. Luckily, he managed to tuck his brother in without any hassle, and quickly made his way out and into his own room at the end of the walkway.

 

A few minutes after he closed the door, he froze as he heard something strange.

At first he had wondered if it was his brother, but quickly realized that it was coming from downstairs. It sounded like uneven breathing, a muffled whimper escaping occasionally, but hardly loud enough to make out.

It sounded like… crying?

He shook his head again.  _ That  _ mess wasn’t his problem. His only concern at the moment was getting back to sleep.

 

As he lay in his bed, though, he found that he couldn’t fall asleep again. There was one thing that Russ had said that kept stubbornly resurfacing in his mind.

 

_ Have you ever wondered what it would be like to just… not be there anymore? _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at first this was just gonna be a oneshot but i changed my mind yeehaw


	3. Fucked Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus turns his armor in and has a nice chat with his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if y'all thought sans was bad in the last chapter, he's about to get a whole lot worse

Papyrus glared at his phone as it woke him up for the second time that morning. He was getting another call, from yet another saved number, after only getting about four hours of sleep.

He glanced at the caller ID, and blinked a few times. He had to have been reading it wrong. There was no way  _ she  _ was actually calling him, right? Maybe it was some kind of glitch?

Hesitantly, he answered it.

 

“Undyne?” He asked, trying and failing to mask the tiredness in his voice. “Why are you calling me?”

“Heya, fuckwit,” she responded, “Thanks for giving my  _ job  _ back. I always knew you wouldn’t last.”

Papyrus furrowed his brow, trying to remember what she was talking about. After a few seconds, he remembered the letter in his inventory. Right, he had been demoted. He still had to give his armor to whoever the new captain was, and considering what Undyne had said, it was probably her. He sighed. He  _ really  _ wasn’t in the mood to interact with her, especially not with another version of himself running around.

“Anyway,” Undyne continued, “I’ll be expecting you to get over here with your armor pretty soon. As in, within the next hour.”

“Th-the letter said I have three days,” he pointed out, cursing himself for the stutter. So much for sounding  _ normal. _

“Well, last time I checked, the letter isn’t your  _ boss,”  _ she refuted, getting slightly louder.  _ “I’m  _ your boss, and if you don’t get me your armor within the next hour-- actually, no, within the next  _ thirty minutes,  _ you won’t even be in Riot Control, you’ll be  _ fired.  _ And I can bet your ass that no one’s gonna hire you after that, either.”

 

And with that, she hung up.

 

Papyrus stared at the phone, frowning. He knew for a fact that the second he walked out the door with his armor in a bag by his side, he would be a target for everyone around. Not to mention, his brother would put him through hell as soon as he left his room, no doubt.

...Unless he was still asleep?

He put his skull against the door, listening closely for any signs that Sans could be moving around or talking downstairs.

When he didn’t hear anything, he could hardly stop the wave of relief that nearly crashed over him. He couldn’t relax just yet. As much of a fumbling drunk as he was, his brother could still be sneaky when he wanted to be. It would be best to preserve the quietness that filled the household as well as he could.

With that in mind, he got dressed.

 

He would have dressed in more casual civilian clothes, but because he was practically getting ready to paint a target onto his own back, he decided against it. Instead, he dug out his old hand-made “armor” he had worn around before he had joined the guard at all. He hadn’t worn it since his 16th birthday, and yet it still fit him perfectly. 

He had to admit, it looked kind of ridiculous, but that was okay as long as it kept him alive. It certainly made him look bigger than he was, with the large shoulder pads and tall heels, but it also looked like it had come straight out of a human cartoon, and the scarf didn’t help. Not to mention, it was  _ hot. _ If he ever stepped foot in Hotland while wearing it, he knew for a fact he’d wind up getting heatstroke. But the thick fabric provided more protection, so he lived with it, whether he liked it or not.

He tried to keep his mind blank as he shoved his armor into a duffle bag. He didn’t want to think about the earful he’d get from his brother in the near future, or the gloating from Undyne that would occur even sooner. He didn’t want to think about how if he had just shut up and done his  _ job,  _ nothing would have gone  _ nearly  _ as wrong as it had. He  _ certainly  _ didn’t want to think about how everyone would probably like it more if he just  _ disappeared  _ one day, leaving no trace behind other than a big pile of gold for Sans to leech off of.

The last thought, though, he thought about anyway. Maybe, he thought, he could avoid the humiliation of turning in his armor by just  _ not _ showing up. And when Undyne called him, he wouldn’t answer, and when she called Sans, he would bang on the door, and wouldn’t get an answer either. And when Sans would throw open the door, ready to yell at the ungrateful piece of trash that ignored him, he’d be greeted with nothing but a Papyrus-sized pile of---

He jumped as his phone vibrated next to him. He then realized that the duffel bag was completely full and zipped up, and he was sitting on the ground, staring at nothing as he squeezed his bare wrist with his clawed hand. He blinked a few times, wondering how the hell he had gotten to this position without noticing, before he finally put a few band-aids on the bone and covered it with a glove yet again.

 

He took a moment to get his breathing back under control before he looked at his phone. Undyne had sent him a text.

_ ‘15 minutes,’  _ was all it said.

He sighed.

Today was going to be a  _ long  _ day.

 

He tucked the phone into his pocket and grabbed the duffel bag before finally walking to the door, carefully listening yet again for any sign of life that may be downstairs.

He paused, his hand hovering inches away from the doorknob.

The TV had been turned on.

Cursing to himself, he backed away. He glanced around, looking for something,  _ anything  _ that could prepare him for the shit he was about to experience. His eyelights found the window, and for a moment he considered jumping out, but shot the idea down when he realized that it would likely damage the armor and, less importantly, his bones. 

With that option gone, he looked at the clock next to his bed. It was a little past six in the morning, Sans  _ never  _ woke up this early. Either he had been woken up by his own hangover, or by something Papyrus did. Either way, he wouldn’t  _ possibly  _ be in a good mood. If Papyrus didn’t manage to remain unseen the entire way down the stairs and out the front door, he’d probably get a plate thrown at him.

He paced around his room before he finally decided,  _ fuck it.  _ He was going to get yelled at no matter what. He might as well just get it done with early.

With that thought, he marched out of the room, his head held high. Well, he  _ wanted  _ to, anyway, but instead, he did the exact opposite, because his body had other plans, apparently.

He kept his eyes on the floor as he reached the bottom of the stairs, clenching his jaw as he anticipated the insults that would come.

 

“Uh, hi there,” a confused Russ said instead, staring at him from where he was spread out on the couch. “Is there a body in that bag, or something? You seem pretty nervous.”

Papyrus looked up from the ground in surprise. He had somehow forgotten that there was a  _ guest.  _

“...No,” he answered, “Have you seen my brother?”

“Nope. I’m pretty sure he’s still asleep.”

“...Okay. Turn that thing off, or it’ll wake him up.”

Russ looked like he wanted to ask a few questions, but eventually did as told. He grabbed a book off of the coffee table next to the couch and started reading it instead.

Papyrus nodded slowly before finally getting back on track, leaving the house far more smoothly than he was expecting. 

Now he just had to make it to Waterfall and back without dying.

The entire walk there, he could feel every monster staring at him as he passed. He clenched his fists when small groups would stop their conversation just to point at him and whisper. He kept his head high as he passed the criminals he had arrested in the past, knowing just how much they wanted him dead. The only time he lowered his confident exterior was when he reached Undyne’s doorstep.

Before he could knock, the door sprung open.

 

“Oh hey!” Undyne greeted, “It’s about fuckin’ time! What, did you decide to stop and smell the flowers on your way here?”

“Here’s my armor,” he muttered, not answering the question as he held the bag forward.

“Jeez, you’re even wearing that old outfit again!” She continued, completely ignoring him, “Is that the scarf I got you? Oh my god, that’s  _ adorable.” _

“Please, just take the bag,” Papyrus pleaded,  _ really  _ not having the energy to deal with this.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to tell me what to do, buddy,” Undyne retorted. “Though, I guess I  _ could  _ take it, just like you took away my depth perception.”

“How many times do I have to say that I’m sorry?” He asked, finally looking up from his own feet and into her one remaining eye. Even after so long, he could hardly believe that  _ he  _ was the reason for that empty cavity and those long, jagged scars across the other side of her face.

“However many it takes for me to believe you,” she growled suddenly, her fake good mood disappearing. “Now give me the bag and get the hell off of my property. If I look at you for any longer, I might just lose my other eye.”

He finally handed the bag over, dread filling his senses as he let go.

“Try not to get ripped apart on your way back home,” she muttered. 

Papyrus stepped back as the door slammed shut.

 

Now all he had to do was make it home.

 

He may not have his armor, but he still had his strength and strategy, right? Maybe it would be fine. Maybe people would still know better than to mess with him, even with the gossip undoubtedly spreading across the underground already.

 

Maybe he could let himself believe that, just for once, he could make it home safe.

 

* * *

 

As Papyrus wiped the dust off of his gloves, he decided that he would never try to be optimistic again. 

 

At least he was finally back in Snowdin, though. The townsfolk knew better than to try to attack him, with or without his armor.

And yet, he still flinched when his phone started ringing.

He glanced at the caller ID and froze.

It was Sans.

Hesitantly, he answered.

 

“H-hello, Sa--”

“Hey bro!” Sans said, his tone all too cheery to be genuine. “Are you almost home? I have something I kinda wanna talk to you about!!!”   


Papyrus’s grip on the phone tightened. Sans only took up  _ that  _ tone when he was royally pissed. He had found out about the demotion.

“I’m, um, I-I’m about t-ten minutes away--” he lied, hoping his brother would believe him so that he could have just a  _ little _ extra time, but--

“Oh really? But I  _ swear  _ this skeleton standing at the edge of town looks  _ just  _ like you!” Sans interrupted. “He’s even got that outfit you used to wear when you weren’t a part of the royal guard! That’s pretty  _ weird,  _ huh??”

Papyrus looked around frantically before finally seeing his brother staring at him from a window of the house. His grin was wide, but it was devoid of any kind of joy. He gave a little wave, and all Papyrus could do was stare back.

“I-I, um, I…” He stammered, trying his damn hardest not to look to panicked, but it was hard not to when his brother was staring him down like an open bar. “I’ll b-be right, um, right th-there.”

“Yeah, I bet you will.”

And with that, his brother hung up and disappeared from the window. 

 

He stood there for a few seconds, trying to calm his frantic thoughts. Maybe he could just…  _ run.  _ If he went back to Undyne’s house and explained the situation, maybe she’d remember their history as friends and finally let him in. Maybe he could live in the woods like those stupid teens, living off the land and stealing from monsters stupid enough to wander around alone. Maybe, maybe he could, he  _ could-- _

He couldn’t.

He knew he couldn’t.

No matter where he went, Sans would find him.

Besides, he had to take care of him, anyway. He  _ had  _ to. It had been his duty since he was eight years old, so why would he stop now?

He kept his head low as he shuffled towards the house, not caring if anyone tried to attack him on the way.

He had endured his brother’s rage before. He could do it again.

His hand shook as it hovered over the doorknob.

He  _ had  _ to.

He repeated it to himself like a mantra until he finally opened the door, stepped inside, and closed it behind him.

 

He barely moved out of the way before a plate shattered against it, mere inches away from his skull.

 

“Wanna tell me why I was woken up by a fuck ton of people telling me my brother got  _ fired?”  _ Sans yelled, his cheery tone completely gone, now. “What the fuck did you  _ do,  _ dumbass? How did you fuck everything up  _ again?” _

“I-I wasn’t--”

_“Y-Y-You w-w-weren’t wh-wh-wh-wh-_ what? You weren’t _what,_ Papyrus?” He growled. “Quit sounding _stupid_ and spit it the fuck _out_ already!”

“I wasn’t f-fired, I-I just--”   
_ “You just _ gave up all the fucking protection we had, is what you did!” Sans shouted, using his magic to grab another plate from the kitchen. “What the  _ fuck  _ is  _ wrong  _ with you?”

Papyrus ducked just in time for the plate to smash against the wall behind him, wincing at the sound.

“For once, for  _ once,  _ Papyrus,  _ why  _ can’t you just do something  _ right?”  _ He snapped. “Every time  _ you  _ fuck up,  _ I’m  _ the one who goes down for it! Can’t you understand how  _ tiring  _ it is for you to fuck up  _ every damn day?” _

“I’m sorry--”

“Shut the hell up!” He got another plate. “You don’t  _ get  _ to  _ be  _ sorry, asshole. Not after all the shit you put  _ me  _ throu--”

“That’s  _ enough!!”  _ Another voice shouted, cutting Sans off. The plate flew out of his hands with the help of blue magic, and was set down gently on the floor, several feet away from him.

Papyrus held his breath, staring at the skeleton that had dared to step in. If there was one thing his brother hated the most, it was being interrupted.

_ “...What?”  _ Sans growled, slowly turning his head.

“I  _ said,”  _ Russ responded, “that’s  _ enough.  _ He gets your point, now leave him  _ alone.” _

He had his hands by his sides, clenched in a way that Papyrus could tell he was hardly holding back from ripping the other skeleton apart. 

“I don’t really think you should be telling me what to do, buddy,” Sans said, though his anger seemed to be giving way to caution.

“It was less of an order and more of a  _ warning,”  _ the other replied. “But, I guess I might as well get my point across.”

Faster than he could blink, Sans was turned blue and held against the wall behind him. A few jagged bones floated just over his neck.

“Can I tell you what to do now?” Russ asked, his voice completely monotone. He almost seemed  _ bored. _

“Uhhhh, hey, y’know what? Sure! T-Tell me to do anything you want, buddy!!!” He stammered, holding his hands up in front of him. “I-It’s all good!!!”

Between every word, his eyes darted expectantly from Russ to Papyrus, as if he were waiting for something.

Papyrus should probably  _ do _ something, right?

Why did it seem like everything in the world had slowed down?

“Great!” Russ exclaimed cheerily, dropping Sans and letting him tumble to the floor gracelessly. “I’ll be looking forward to not seeing your face ever again!”

 

Sans stumbled up from where he had fallen, sending his brother one last glare as he regained his balance.

Then the light flickered, and he was gone.

 

“Now then,” Russ began, dusting his hands off as he walked towards his shaking counterpart, “Are you alright? Should I call someone?”

All at once, the realization that he had let someone threaten his brother hit him like a train.

“Get the fuck away from me!!” He yelled, summoning a few jagged bones of his own. “You.. Y-you can’t just-- You c-can’t just do  _ that  _ a-and think that I’m g-gonna let you  _ anywhere  _ n-near me!”

The other merely backed up, raising his hands like he was trying to confront a wild animal.

“Alright, maybe I went a _ tad _ overboard,” Russ responded, his voice calm yet stern. “But I wanted to make sure he would stop, okay? In fact, I’m sorry I didn’t step in sooner.”

“I d-don’t need your ch- _ charity!”  _ Papyrus growled, though he could already feel his walls breaking down. “Get th-the hell  _ out!” _

“You’re blocking the door,” the other pointed out. “If you really,  _ genuinely  _ want me to leave, then you’re gonna have to move out of the way.”

 

He froze. Well, as much as he could, considering how much he was shaking. He wanted this asshole to leave, didn’t he? He had threatened his brother, so how  _ couldn’t  _ he? 

But at the same time… he  _ cared.  _ He  _ helped  _ him. Why would he  _ do _ that?

 

“Why?” He heard himself ask, barely registering that the word had left his mouth. “Wh-why did you…?”

“Because you didn’t deserve any of that,” Russ said simply. “It just… felt right, I guess.”

“You… You w-want something in return, d-don’t you?”

“No. There isn’t really anything I’m interested in here.”

 

He couldn’t understand.

What was the point of just helping someone for no reason? What did he mean, Papyrus  _ didn’t  _ deserve it? He fucked up, of course Sans was going to get angry. Whatever he  _ did _ with his anger was Papyrus’s responsibility,  _ especially _ since he was the one that had caused it in the first place. It had always been that way, so why would it change now?

Why did Russ feel the need to stop it?

Why did he  _ care? _

 

“Hey,” Russ said gently, suddenly much closer than he was before. Papyrus realized he had dispersed his attacks without noticing. “It’s alright now, okay? I promise, it’s okay.”

 

His vision  _ may _ have gotten blurry, and he  _ may  _ have felt wet drops trail down his face, but he did  _ not  _ start crying then, dammit.

  
And he sure as  _ hell  _ didn’t let the bastard in front of him hold him, either.

 


End file.
